"flickerings" poems
Alabaster Archipelagos
Benevolent Beauty Beaming
Constructive Contradictive Creative Contemplations
Dante's Darling Dances Deliberating Denominatives
Effervescent Escapisms Endearingly Emerge Elusive Edens
Fantastic Flamboyant ******** Flamed Fabulous Fiery Flickerings
Gorgeous Garden Gim'memores Gaudied Garnishing Gasps
Heavenly Hues Humming Heart's Harmonies
Immortaly Impregnated Inspired Ideals
Jessamin Jargon Jacuzzi Jams
Know-how Knacking Knurls
Light-spirited Lovers
Merge Magnificent
Naked Nocturno Nights
Omnipresent Ousia Over Odeons
Palpitations Perfect Peaks Pi Paws
Quintessential Quality Quarrels Question Quarks Quietness
Rododendron's Richameters Rescued Raw Reeling Ruby Realms
Sentient Syllabic Sapfo's Splendidly Spirited Semantics
Turning Turner's Timeless Timeless Twinklings
Unified Undulatory Unsolved Unicorns
Velvety Venice Voyages
Wanton Wantings
Xsylophone Xsantiphas
Yearnin' Yuki's Yen
Zed's Zealous Zen-it-hall Zeppelins
Aug 16, 2015
Aug 16, 2015 at 9:26 AM UTC
Flickerings of distant memories flutter
past my psyche into nothing.
Through an astral plain I drift.
Over nonexistent lands
my feet carry me, floating.
She slinks away, the black cat, agile—
“The dreamscape is a fragile
thing,” she said. I'm following,
changing, borrowing her shape but then
the story fades, too vague
and just like that
it's vanished.
Incomprehensible images wander
as clouds through skies of colours unseen.
I'm lost in an ocean of questions
that pierce my ears as hooks through the fish's mouth
but I cannot ask,
for a white hot zipper seals my lips.
A voice whispers, breath damp in my ear:
“Watch, listen...”
The ground opens beneath me
and I plummet.
Feeling cold against my skin
I'm naked, vulnerable, fearful.
This pit must be bottomless but
I've landed, unscathed.
Bathed in grasses soft as silk
smelling of life and freedom
I'm enveloped in relief, protection.
My body moves, uncontrollable
as reeds in a river
yet still guided by a wind with no origin
playing melodies of beauty immense and painful.
Wonder fills me as the song ends,
ominous and heavy the silence looms.
Flowers die and the grasses wither
as I'm pulled away,
reluctant.
Higher, higher I'm lifted
into lucidity
past ladders and staircases, tunnels and gateways
closing before my eyes
as nearer draws the moment I dread more than anything.
Despite my persistence,
I'm solid again.
I'm myself, mundane and mourning:
awake.
Oct 2, 2012
Oct 2, 2012 at 3:42 PM UTC
~
If you were mine…
If you were mine…our footsteps would
dance on moonlit verandas
while candle lit flickerings enticed my smiled reflections
with your arms tightly around me
symphonies would play to the rhythm of your charm
as we swayed in the essence of forever
on cloud soft concertos of affection’s melodic whispers
eternal echoes would sing in harmony to your eyes,
hauntingly dark invitations to my endless destination,
soothing reflections comforting weathered longings
If you were mine…satin beaches would
eclipse tan line passions
beneath glistening waves of aquamarine salt water bliss
gently caressing the depth of our love
palm leaf shadows of cooling design would weave embracing patterns
of ocean fed breezes tickling our naked forms
as sea foam fingers probe pearl smooth valleys
sunset tides would tease beneath star orchid heavens
blooming of every wished for fantasy…
lasting happily ever after upon sandcastles dreams
If you were mine…my life would
be a mosaic of delirious euphoric visions
in constant creative motion delivering sincerely
every ounce of joy your heart could desire
painted in the sweet essence of everything that is your spirit
vibrant in wonders of fragrant poetic offerings
versed in accordance with your every need
believing that happiness can begin with a smile,
walk along endless streams of worshiped blessings,
remaining satisfied and forevermore yours
If you were mine…oh, if you were mine
May 8, 2014
May 8, 2014 at 12:12 AM UTC
Electricity is out
Shut down by nature’s power
Ice’s storm break danced till dawn
Twisting branch, limb and tree trunk onto lawn
16 nights of darkness
16 days of frost
16 days without power
Yet not all is lost
Relaxation’s comfort found in front of fireplace
Sun’s light deferred, soaked up in greener days
Hearth felt spiritual warming in fire brewed cup of simplicity
Candlelight flickerings augment the serendipity
16 days without power and not a thought of TV
16 nights of quiet and stillness
Strangely appealing to me
Feb 22, 2010
Feb 22, 2010 at 11:15 AM UTC
my
fascination
is
today
with
the
not
quite
seen
those
flickerings
in
the
periphery
visual
line
the
yet
to
be
thought
half
formed
nebulous
inklings
mind
wrinklings
the
words
balancing
precariously
on
the
tip
of
the
tongue
the
song
of
joy
or
sorrow
yet
unsung
the
dance
step
stagnating
in
the
toe-tap
the
poem
waiting
to
be
found
in
the
shadow
of
the
corner
of
almost
and
rhyme
these
are
the
things
that
fascinate
that
whittle
and
while
away
at
my
precious
time
Sep 28, 2014
Sep 28, 2014 at 9:59 AM UTC
If you were mine…
If you were mine…our footsteps would
dance on moonlit verandas
while candle lit flickerings enticed my smiled reflections
with your arms tightly around me
symphonies would play to the rhythm of your charm
as we swayed in the essence of forever
on cloud soft concertos of affection’s melodic whispers
eternal echoes would sing in harmony to your eyes,
hauntingly dark invitations to my endless destination,
soothing reflections comforting weathered longings
If you were mine…satin beaches would
eclipse tan line passions
beneath glistening waves of aquamarine salt water bliss
gently caressing the depth of our love
palm leaf shadows of cooling design would weave embracing patterns
of ocean fed breezes tickling our naked forms
as sea foam fingers probe pearl smooth valleys
sunset tides would tease beneath star orchid heavens
blooming of every wished for fantasy…
lasting happily ever after upon sandcastles dreams
If you were mine…my life would
be a mosaic of delirious euphoric visions
in constant creative motion delivering sincerely
every ounce of joy your heart could desire
painted in the sweet essence of everything that is your spirit
vibrant in wonders of fragrant poetic offerings
versed in accordance with your every need
believing that happiness can begin with a smile,
walk along endless streams of worshiped blessings,
remaining satisfied and forevermore yours
If you were mine…oh, if you were mine
Feb 3, 2014
Feb 3, 2014 at 11:52 AM UTC
~
Sometimes I don’t say it
as eloquently as I should
Words run from me
disappearing over mountain tops
In the last phrases of my day
when moon light seeps in
Through opaque glass
and curtains of lace promises
I clutch tightly my pillow
wishing it were you
Hoping that tonight’s dream
will give me a hint
Like some painted message
on marshmallow clouds
Drawing lingering lines
in star to star whispers
Chasing firefly flickerings
with a mayonnaise jar
Trying to capture your heart
in a twilight whimsy
Within the verses of a poem
written on a breeze
Floating across
midnight skies of woven stanzas
Eloquently or not…
of my love for you
Jul 24, 2015
Jul 24, 2015 at 7:12 PM UTC
( An essay poem about two artists souls )
My beloved, my sweet...
i fed you with love,
i nourished you with my smiles,
my countless patience, my sunshine, my passion
i nurtured you with nature
what you can do to bloom
i whispered in your ears those precious words
added my own blood to your secrets,
our songs became completest absurdic symphonies
only you can make me
as i am today:
a happy creature with free pride
free….but with great responsebility
myriad of people,
with million milliards of interests,
most of them had been in distress
they came to you and they went again
when they came, everyone was stressed and hurt….
as soon as you treated them,
in dutch we say you possess green hands,
and when they left, they arrived at an entirely brand-new land
they had not one pain again
on their new grains of sand….
You came from afar behind the swift clouds,
i saw you, but i had my doubts
you wiped them all away
and made that i wanted to stay
like in a thousand and one nights….
and as a wonder i the rebel
won't go astray anymore at any level….
You made me your owner,
though so many travels together, i am still a loner
believe me my dear, this pure absurdity
believe me, this will last till eternity
A sunlit Molenwijk area where once good hearts lived,
in the midst of summerheat, one season long to forgive
curious odd people were staring at you
like you were a killed living art statue
it is loveliest to know
you are a living ordinary soul who creates,
a living everyday man who penetrates
sick people's mind
your treatments all are oft of a very loving kind
precisely on that place and in that precious time
many fans trust you and your work is over sublime
Molenwijk area is not as before,
a crowded place for online games now
an arcadia in nostalgic plays and updated games
discomfort and nostalgia are now the glowing flames.
somehow those sparkling flickerings make me true sad,
give me the eternal feelings of constantly rushing ahead
Where I reside now with you, my beloved, my sweet
is not to compare with Molenwijk's grandest defeat
each street here is a treasure of leisure
in each corner rests sweet smell of peace
in each home resides sweet smell of our own ease
peace in all hearts, and peace in our own....
© Sylvia Frances Chan -
Oct 18, 2016
Oct 18, 2016 at 9:05 AM UTC
And now a change of scenery;
the night has truly fallen
now
and departing from
our Baltic Galway
“into the woods”
we can greet the callings
of some shenanigans
luring and
lurking there
to plant or extract ideas
and trespassings
of
our
flickerings.
Have a waiting room
in car rides,
help yourself
And earlier,
barefoot through
sand poured with pine needles
and we walk
nevertheless.
Bare feet open
the way to puddles
of warm diamonds
called sky water
now with pungent flowers
hitting senses like ambrosia,
the way to high embracing
of the trees whilst climbing,
to mud healing,
to impassive conquering
of any earth we
encounter,
to comprehension,
and to the respect
of all that came
and left through
these lands
in the span
of
all
the history.
Stronger and stronger,
closest to the truest
an affection and
calling
belonging
from the trees.
As such I cup one all,
I never want to let go,
there comes a commotion,
like entering the hidden crowd
from which you’ve always known
you truly come from,
like creatures
of a forest looking
in the silence too deep
at a village of
another world.
At first I thought from scientists
that plants don’t like being
touched,
yet as someone
quite new told me:
“Would you
be able to
find such
comprehension, love
and moving
appurtenance if they
didn’t feel exactly
the same towards
You?
Recent forest
walks when I
free my spirit too to
let it approach me
make me feel that
such great intimate
pride of an archer
or
vagabond
bound with it all in
their own story
and perception, and
even a half an hour walk
makes itself a wonder of
a few pages of a
Robin-Hood-like
book
in my presence
walking.
Also, the same
in river’s sole fine
line of freeze,
who holds dear
the mute,
those
who feign not
appurtenance
of this
world.
Let us stop,
we have arrived
already at our shack
and there’s our safe
space that
holds a place
for us to sleep
away.
Another
unconscious lesson
in God’s library,
another
Sun
to
come.
Sep 1, 2020
Sep 1, 2020 at 1:53 PM UTC
Sound is a torchlight passed
Along the eardrum to quiver in silhouettes,
Shadow puppets of the mind.
Stars are the torchlit soundways to the divine,
With flickerings too far to be heard
Or too much shadow-disturbed to know as sign.
May 24, 2019
May 24, 2019 at 11:24 PM UTC
Lawrence Hall
[email protected]
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com
A Disembodied Hand Doomscrolling
on the Wall of Tia Maria’s Barbecue
- not Daniel 5
Tiffany was treatin’ the girls to barbecue
The merry ol’ girls from her bowling league
(Dazzling team colors in pink and blue)
She had made herself captain through cruel intrigue
When suddenly a disembodied hand
Appeared with a smartphone by the restroom door
And keyed strange lines that in flickerings scanned:
“You’ll be sacked this evening - your team’s 0 to 4”
That very night Tiffany’s custom ball was taken
And she cried in her trailer, her heart a-breakin’
Oct 15, 2021
Oct 15, 2021 at 11:07 AM UTC